Stigmatized
by eksley05
Summary: Songfic. My first attempt at a KennyxKyle, rated T cuz, well, language.


****

A/N: So, I wasn't planning on writing anything, but I was talking to my friend tonight and listening to music, and this song came on and I got lightning-ed in the head with the idea, soooo, this is what you get.

**Song: "Stigmatized" by The Calling.**

* * *

_If I give up on you, I give up on me.  
__If we fight what's true, will we ever be?  
__Even God Himself, and the faith I knew  
__Shouldn't hold me back, shouldn't keep me from you._

"I can't..." His voice catches in his throat, and he breaks eye contact, looking down. He reaches up and tugs his green hat off his head. Seventeen years old, and he still wears it, like it's his security hat or something. Crushing it between his palms, he continues, "I can't tell them."

I sit on the edge of his bed, saying nothing. This wasn't quite the conversation I had anticipated when Kyle had called me earlier.

"_Kenny, can you come over...? I need to talk to you." _

The way his voice had shaken, I had expected to leave the Jewish boy's room single. Instead, I get hit with the news that Kyle just has issues with the world knowing he's gay. Not the best thing to find out, but it wasn't quite a breakup either.

Kyle seems to take my silence as anger, and starts babbling an explanation.

"It's just, you know them, Kenny, you know what would happen. Cartman would have a field day if he found out I'm actually..._you know._" He peeks up at me from under his tangled red curls.

"Gay?" I raise an eyebrow. "Come on, Kyle, do you really think it's that big a deal?"

Kyle closes his eyes and rakes both hands through his hair, dropping his hat. "I'm just...not ready," he whispers.

Fuck, I have to ask The Question. Lowering my own gaze, I ask quietly, "Are you saying you want us to be over?"

Kyle's eyes fly open and he gives me a look of shock. "No! God, no, Kenny, being with you is the best thing to ever happen to me!"

_Tease me, by holding out your hand.  
__Then leave me, or take me as I am,  
__And live our lives, stigmatized._

"Then why are you so afraid to have people know about us?" Fuck, I sound like such a fucking _girl. _I hate it. But I've been in love with Kyle for months, and ever since that first incident, weeks ago, in detention, when I found out that the redhead actually _reciprocated_ my feelings, we've been together. But it's been a _secret_ together—nobody knows, not even Stan, Kyle's Super Best Friend in the whole entire world. All I want is to be able to proudly announce to everyone that I, Kenny McCormick, am finally in a real, monogamous, honest-to-God-not-just-for-the-sex relationship. With Kyle Broflovski.

It's not like I don't understand entirely where his hesitation comes from. He's probably right about Cartman; that asshole never makes anyone's life easier. He'd given me a hard time about it when I admitted to being bi in eighth grade, but he'd gotten bored after a few weeks. And anyway, we were in high school now. What did it really matter?

"I just can't tell them, Kenny." Kyle sighs, an exhausted-sounding sigh. "Not yet."

"Well, I can't be secret anymore, Kyle," I say, surprised at the sharpness in my own tone. We're both silent for a few seconds.

"You know I love you, Kenny..." Kyle says, in _that _tone.

I wince. Here it comes.

"But...we're obviously in different places right now..." He trails off, looking miserable. "Maybe...maybe this is for the best?"

I shake my head slowly, and stand. _No, _I want to say. _It's not for the best. I want us to be together. Goddammit, I love you, Kyle Broflovski, don't let me leave this room! _But I stay silent, crossing the room and slipping out the door.

It isn't until I'm halfway home that I realize I'm crying.

... ... ...

_I can feel the blood rushing through my veins  
__When I hear your voice, driving me insane.  
__Hour after hour, day after day,  
__Every lonely night that I sit and pray._

I barely leave my house during the next few weeks. I stop going to school; it's not like I give a fuck about it anyway. I only ever went to see Kyle. My parents barely even notice I'm home, if I stay in my room and make no noise. I'm good at that. Pretending I don't exist.

I think it's Tuesday, but I've lost track of days. It's early, but I'm lying in bed, listening to my dad's drunken ravings and my mom's angry shouting. I have a headache but I don't want to leave my room to get water. I don't want to get caught in the middle of another "domestic dispute". That's what the cops call it, anyway. Normally I wouldn't even be home when they were fighting—I'd be at Kyle's, or Stan's, or Cartman's. I'd even go see Craig once in awhile, when he wasn't busy with Tweek. But ever since Kyle and I ended, I haven't been able to handle seeing any of the other guys. Seeing them probably meant I would see Kyle, and I couldn't _see_ Kyle without wanting to _have_ Kyle. And that couldn't happen.

I groan and close my eyes, willing my headache to just fuck off on its own. I wonder what Kyle's doing right now. I wonder if he's alone and miserable, like me. I'd give anything to hear his voice right now. I remember the nights when I would sneak out of my room in the middle of night and go to Kyle's. No matter what time it was, even if I'd woken him out of a deep sleep, Kyle was always glad to see me, his green eyes shining with happiness. Jesus Christ, I miss him.

I hear a scratching noise, but I ignore it. The scratching turns into tapping, which turns into insistent knocking. I sit up slowly, trying not to move my head too much, and open my eyes. There, outside my window, is a pale face topped by red curls. My headache forgotten, I'm up and across my room in less than a second. I slide my window open and Kyle scrambles inside. He's breathing heavily, like he's been running. He looks at me, and there's a look in his eyes I can't recognize. He doesn't say hello, just swallows nervously and bites his lower lip.

"Kyle," I say, not knowing what else _to_ say.

"I told them."

I don't understand for a second. "Told who?"

"_Them_. Everyone." Kyle waves his arms around in the air. "They know."

My heart stops as I process the information. He told them? Kyle came out? Was that what he was trying to tell me? Please, please God, let that be what he was saying.

_Tease me, by holding out your hand.  
__Then leave me, or take me as I am,  
__And live our lives, stigmatized._

"Kenny?" Kyle's voice trembles and he starts pacing. "Oh, shit, you're pissed, aren't you? God, I'm sorry, of course you are. Why would you still want to be with me after what I put you through? After we haven't even _talked _for... Jesus, I'm such an—"

"Shut up, dumbass." I can barely keep the excitement out of my voice. Kyle's head snaps up and he looks at me hopefully.

"You'd still—?" He doesn't finish the sentence, because I don't let him. We fall backwards, onto my bed, tangled together. I lose track of time. The only thing I'm aware of is Kyle. After what seems like hours, we just lay there, under my one blanket, my head on Kyle's chest. I can hear his heartbeat. He's playing with my blond hair.

"So what happened?" I ask lazily, awake, but barely able to keep my eyes open. "What made you tell?"

There's a second of silence, and then Kyle says, "Losing you. I meant it, Kenny. You're the best part of my life."

I smile, and make a noise of contentment.

"I told Stan first. He said he wasn't surprised. He was with me when I told my parents."

"How did that go?" I roll over so I can see Kyle's face. He shrugs.

"They weren't exactly shocked either. My dad said he thought something was up when I never brought girls home. And my mom, well, you can imagine."

I grin up at my redhead. "Did she go out and start a support group for homosexual teenage boys?"

Kyle smiles back at me. "No, but the day's not over yet."

We laugh, together. God, I love him so much.

"What about Cartman?" I ask.

Kyle sighs. "You know Cartman. He started shouting about how he knew it all along, I'm a Jew-fag, so gay for Stan."

What? "Stan?" I sit up and stare at him, confused. "You didn't tell them about me?"

Kyle looks down. "I didn't know if you would still want me," he says shyly.

"So... You weren't sure you'd get me back, but you came out anyway?" I couldn't believe Kyle's bravery.

He nodded, still looking away from me. His cheeks were pink.

"I fucking love you, Kyle Broflovski," I said, pulling him into a hug.

He hugs me back tightly. "I'm going to tell them tomorrow, at school," he says. I feel his breath, warm on my neck. "I want you to be there when I do."

... ... ...

_We live our lives on different sides.  
__But we keep together, you and I  
__Just live our lives, stigmatized.  
__We'll live our lives, we'll take the punches every day.  
__We'll live our lives, I know we're gonna find our way._

"Christ, Kenny, you could have anybody, and you pick the _Jew_?" Cartman is looking at me in disgust. Beside me, Kyle winces. I wrap my arm tighter around his shoulders and glare at Cartman.

"Fuck off, fatass."

"I'm seriously, Kenny! _Anybody_." Cartman won't let it go. Resisting the temptation to kick him in the nuts, I do my best to ignore him and continue down the hall with Kyle. There are whispers all around us.

"OhmyGod, look at them."

"They're _together_?"

"But he's so poor."

"Yeah, but _look_ at him."

"What's he _thinking?_"

"But he's _Jewish_."

I can feel everyone's eyes on us, and not in a good way. I don't understand the big fucking deal. We reach the end of the hall, and, unable to take it anymore, I take my arm off Kyle's shoulders and turn around to glare at everyone. Cartman, Kevin, Craig, Token, Jason, Clyde, Bebe, Wendy, Stan, even Tweek.

"Do you have something you want to say?" I demand. I can feel Kyle shaking beside me and I hate that this is happening. That our being together is apparently so _unthinkable_. There's some scattered mumbling from everyone in the hallway, but no real answers.

"You all didn't have a problem with me being bi," I say angrily, looking at each of them, but no one will look me in the eye. "And according to Kyle, the only one who had any real issue with him being gay was Fatass. So why is it so _wrong_ for us to be together?"

There's still silence, which frustrates me even more. I cannot believe that these are the people I've been going to school with my whole life. They disgust me now.

"Come on, Kyle," I say, taking his hand in my own. I tug him forward gently. "Let's just go." He follows me, down another hallway and outside. He's quiet, but I'm too pissed off.

"What the fuck is wrong with them? Jesus fucking Christ, fucking judgmental bastards, all of them," I rant. "I swear to God, if they keep acting like this—"

"Kenny." Kyle interrupts me, and I turn to him. His eyes are shiny with tears as he looks back at me.

"They're never going to understand," he says softly. "Why someone like you would want someone like me... This is never going to stop."

_I believe in you  
__Even if no one understands.  
__I believe in you, and I don't really give a damn  
__If we're stigmatized.  
__We live our lives on different sides  
__But we keep together, you and I.  
__We live our lives on different sides..._

"Don't," I say, shaking my head. "Don't even fucking say it, Kyle. What they think..." I jerk my head in the direction of the school. "I don't care. I don't fucking care. I love you. I'm not letting that go just because the people we know have some _problem_ with us being together. If they want to be intolerant jackasses, that's their problem. I don't need them. I just need you."

Kyle smiles, a small smile, and I know that everything is going to be all right. "I love you..."

I pull him forward again, closer to me. I lean towards him, and whisper in his ear, "I love you, too. No matter what."

_We're gonna live our lives,  
__Gotta live our lives,  
__We're gonna live our lives,  
__We're gonna live our lives,  
__Gonna live our lives...  
__Stigmatized._


End file.
